The hot new paranormal romance from the bestselling author of The Ex File, Alexis D. Craig, on sale Saturday, May 23rd! Now, without further ado…
Nahia stood at the cash register in her shop, Wellington’s Magickal Apothecary, surveying her domain with pleasure. Business was good in the downtown Indianapolis store, selling herbs for teas and tinctures, as well as crystals and other items for varying practices of religion and divination, and she enjoyed interacting with her clientele. Everyone from the boho chic to the well-heeled blueblood came to her store to peruse her wares.
She snorted at her word choice; it wasn’t that kind of establishment. Yeah, it had the requisite dark jewel-toned walls, wind chimes, walls of various books, and tarot decks, not to mention the couple of rooms upstairs she rented out to a local clairvoyant, tarot, and palm reader, but she wasn’t all done up in faux-fortune teller broomstick skirts and jangly belly dancer belts. Today she had her turquoise streaked black mane tamed back into a long braid to her waist, her favorite Hello Kitty KISS shirt, and a pair of jeans that had been new two presidents ago. It wasn’t the mystical look, but it didn’t hurt the business at all.
She was ringing up a beginner tarot deck and a bag of tiger-eye runes when her cell phone sang from her pocket, Saint-Saëns’ Danse Macabre. Even though it was her personal phone, she answered, “Wellington’s Magickal Apothecary, putting potion in motion, Nahia Wellington speaking.”
“Nye, it’s Nigel. I need a favor.”
“What kind of favor?” Nigel was Nigel Gooch, a childhood friend who now worked for the police department. They’d known each other so long that their parents referred to them as Nye, Squared. Nahia looked at her watch, a robust faced two pound wrist weight she was loath to part with and found it odd for him to be calling her so late in the day. He was normally a day shift car.
“The work-related kind.” He paused to snicker a bit, “I mean, your work, not mine.”
“Oh, this can’t be good.” Though she wasn’t exactly psychic in the traditional sense she was highly sensitive, somewhat clairvoyant and more often than not, clairaudient. For the life of her, she could think of no good scenarios for the police department needing her services. “The walls of roll call bleeding or something?” A simple haunting and a house blessing she could do. Locating missing people, not so much. Ghost hunting was a personal joy for her, with numerous pictures and audio evidence to her credit.
“No!” Nigel sounded unduly excited to be disagreeing with her. “Not like that, exactly. We had this guy go check a house. He got thrown out of the house.”
“That sounds like a situation for SWAT, not one for a friendly, neighborhood magickal implements supplier.” Wedging her phone between her chin and shoulder, she quietly tended to a customer, taking money in exchange for a rose quartz pendulum on a silver chain and a bundle of white sage.
“Not when the house is abandoned and whatever threw him out wasn’t visible to the human eye.”
Nahia smiled at the customer before turning to grab a piece of paper and a pen. “Now you have my attention. What was that address again?”